


Injured

by Aki_Saiko (saikowrites)



Series: Writober 2019 [29]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Exploring, F/M, Fluff, Inktober 2019, Light Femdom, Makeouts, No Proofreading We Die Like Men, No porn but no plot either, Spoilers for 20th november, Touching, Writober 2019, Yusuke do you even know what timing is, injured, kind of, maybe light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 08:57:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21233165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saikowrites/pseuds/Aki_Saiko
Summary: Akira deals with the consequences of escaping death. Makoto helps in her very own way.WRITOBER 2019 | Day 29: Injured | Based on the official Inktober 2019 prompt list.





	Injured

**Author's Note:**

> Uhm hello @Hansei, I know I'm supposed to be sleeping 'cause con departure in a few hours. Take this as an apology? Also a big, huge thank you for reading all of my shuakes, you deserve to have your femdom shumako xoxo

Sojiro’s voice calls his name from the café, tells him to come downstairs. Akira sits on the bed and stands up, his body aches with every movement. Steps creaks under his feet, and he sticks his head out.

“Don’t worry, there’s no customer here now,” Sojiro informs him.

Akira goes down the last part of the stairs. Sojiro, cigarette in his lips, meddles with the lighter. Makoto stands near the counter, schoolbag on her shoulder, a bulky plastic bag in her hands and a slight furrow on her face. His gaze lingers on her, and she smiles politely.

“Good afternoon, Akira. I’ve come to deliver you some materials Miss. Kawakami gave me, as well as some of Haru’s vegetables from her personal domestic cultivation and some chocolate from Ann.”

Sojiro flashes him a questioning, surprised look. Akira fights the urge to shrug and stares back, expression blank. He shakes his head just enough to move his curls and adjusts his glasses.

Makoto’s mouth curls in a suppressed smirk.

“And, Ryuji asks when you’ll be able to train with him again.”

Akira contains a laugh.

“Not too soon, I’m sorry. Doctor Takemi has been clear enough about that. What did Kawakami say to you?”

Makoto’s mouth parts and teeth begins to bite her lower lip, but she refrains.

“Well, it’s a bit long to explain, and she gave me some papers, too. May I leave the groceries here and illustrate all that you need to know with more calm?”

“Sure,” Akira blurts. Sojiro glances at him again, but doesn’t comment. He stretches a hand from the counter.

“Here, I’ll arrange the groceries. Thank you for all the help you guys are giving him.”

“Oh, there’s no problem. Akira endured enough on his own, so now we do what we can.”

Makoto walks towards him and Akira climbs the stairs back up to the attic. Morgana jumps down the working desk and greets Makoto.

“Since you’re here, I’ll go for a stroll. Keep him in line, ok?”

“You can count on me, Morgana.”

The cat nods, hops on the windowsill and exits the room.

Akira’s shoulders burn under the girl’s scrutinizing eyes.

“You didn’t say you’d come today.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to cause you any problem. I… just thought you might have liked some contact with the outer world.”

His lips crumple in a grimace. He stares at the window.

“Don’t worry, I – thank you for coming. And for the food.”

“Akira.”

Her voice is severe, yet a certain worry emerges from the surface.

“Akira, look at me.”

He turns. Eyes run to the floor. He forces them to lift up to the girl’s face.

Makoto takes some steps closer.

“What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

His throat knots, and tiredness falls down on his mind and body.

“It’s – too much. I guess.”

Makoto’s hand stretches to his face and Akira dodges it as it was a bullet. He freezes in realization, heart heavy in his chest and guilt strangling his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

Makoto shakes her head and stands right in front of him.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t think the situation was this bad…”

Her voice trembles.

“Can I touch you? Hug you?”

Her words hit as an arrow in his chest, and air leaves his lungs; he can’t draw in another breath.

“Sure,” he whispers and opens his arms.

Makoto’s body gently leans on his, the contact brings warmth and devotion and unvoiced concerns. He caresses her back and buries his nose into her soft hair. Her grip tightens and Akira fights back a whine. She pulls out from the embrace and looks at him with big, watery eyes, runs a hand to his marked cheek.

“Can I kiss you?”

His heart melts. He adjusts some strands behind her ear and lowers his lips on hers. Swollen skin touches soft skin, savors the hint of lip balm, and tenderness overflows the itching of cuttings and wounds as waves on scorching sand.

Voice brushes against them.

“You can let go now, Akira. We’re here; I’m here. You’re safe. No need to bottle everything up.”

“The beatings were bearable. Almost.” Chills run up and down his spine. “But the drug… when I woke up, I couldn’t even remember my name. A man, he handed me some papers and I couldn’t even recall how to sign them. Memories got back faster and faster but scattered, and when Sae came in, I was terrified I could have forgotten something vital. I – I didn’t even remember our plan in details. Only that I was supposed to convince her to show my phone to Akechi.”

Both of Makoto’s hands entangle in his messy hair, gently scratch his nape and lightly pull at his curls. Relaxation soothes his limbs and evens his breath, makes his eyes shut.

“I’m here,” she repeats, and kisses him again. Slower, deeper, more passionate; Makoto less afraid of hurting him and more willing to comfort him. Their tongues dance, and Akira lights up, holds Makoto tighter with need and affection and the silent desire for more.

They part, and he opens his mouth, but Makoto puts a finger on his lips, a knowing smile unfolds on her face and flushes her cheek with hints of pink. She doesn’t break eye contact and starts unbuttoning his black blazer, works with every red button as if it was fragile as crystal. Akira lets the jacket fall down on the floor with a shrug of his shoulders; heart pounds in his chest and fills his ears with blood pressure and a muffled whistle.

Makoto’s hands raise up again but stop mid-air. She looks at them and backs off, her eyebrows furrow in doubt.

“I’m not going too far, am I?”

Words slip from Akira’s mouth.

“Honestly, you could stab me right now and I’d still thank you.”

Her eyes widen and the light frown transforms into an upset glare.

“You are so impudent.”

She raises on her tiptoes and Akira lowers to meet her, but she searches for his neck instead, leaves little kisses from his ear to his jaw that make hunger build up in his guts. Uncertain hands grab his and guide them on the buttons securing the halter vest of her uniform; confidence grows and Makoto squeezes them to make sure he understood.

His fingertips travel through her back to get rid of that first piece of clothing, and a sweet gasp escapes from the girl, muffled against his neck. He tightens her arms around her, needs to feel her _more_. Makoto fights back and takes some distance, fixes her gaze on him.

Her digits approach the suspenders, pull them down, carefully linger on his belly.

She smiles and it’s powerful, brave and fierce as Queen.

Digits pull his white turtleneck out of the trousers, explore what’s hidden beneath the fabric, and every touch lights a fire on the skin on his navel, his chest, his collarbone.

And they’re gone.

“Take that off,” she commands.

Akira follows without a word, his mouth dry and his mind lost in bright reddish eyes. Chilling air prompts goosebumps on his skin, branded with old scars on his arms and a purple bruise near his stomach, where he’d been kicked. Arms cross with the urge to shield his body from cold and foreign eyes, but Makoto unfolds them.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispers, and kisses him on the chest, on sharp bones, on tended sinews. Akira sucks in a sharp breath, but exhales it immediately with a moan.

“You’re beautiful,” she repeats.

Akira’s fingers slip inside her shirt, trace patterns on the skin at the back of her neck, but Makoto catches his lips again and shakes off his hand, places it on her hip instead, makes it pick at the point where her turtleneck is tucked in her skirt.

Akira opens his mouth to protest, but the girl’s tongue slides inside and curious fingers play with the hem of his trousers on his back, send a spark up his spine with every movement.

Akira works with Makoto’s shirt, only breaks from the kiss to let her free herself from the second piece of clothing.

His insides twitch. Not only his insides. He has to force himself to breathe.

Makoto’s cheeks redden and the frown returns on her face.

“Stop staring at me like that.”

“I can’t, you’re too gorgeous,” Akira blurts and a shiver shakes him in both embarrassment and arousal.

He lifts his hands to cup her face, but Makoto traps them and gently push him backwards. Akira hits the edge of his bed with the back of his legs and sits down; Makoto climbs on his lap and sticks her knees on the mattress on both sides of him.

She’s taller than him in that way, Akira has to lift his chin to look her in the eyes, mouth parted in awe. Redness just won’t leave her face, yet the aura she possesses is noble, regal. Akira’s gaze shifts non-stop between deep red eyes and sculpted collarbone.

Makoto giggles.

“You can unhook it, you know.”

Akira’s face goes full red. Trembling fingers search for the right way to complete the task, quivering lips look for the skin on her neck, on her shoulders. The bra opens with a little _clack_ and Akira sucks and bites a mark in celebration, draws out a restrained moan from the girl.

Makoto pulls out from the straps and lets that other piece fall on the floor. Her arms flinch, she imposes not to cover herself in a way so pure, Akira’s heart clenches.

“You’re beautiful, Makoto.”

“You, too.”

She lowers on his body, her whispers tickles at his ear.

“Touch me.”

Akira’s hands move and they don’t feel like his own. They linger on the side of her breasts, trace their curved line and brush against her nipples; a soft sigh comes sweet from her. Akira squeezes them, experiences them in his hands and marvels of just how soft and warm they are.

Makoto leans in, presses her chest against his body in a tight hug and make them both fall on the mattress. Akira fights back a whine and twists his mouth.

“Sorry! I’m sorry,” Makoto retreats and casts him a worried look.

“I’m fine,” he says.

He lays on his back, his eyes devour every inch of Makoto’s exposed skin.

“I’m glad you’re here with me. Your wit and determination saved our group and my own life.”

Her lips curve.

“I put you in some serious danger, and because of my plan, they did horrible things to you.”

“None of us could have predicted that. It’s been hell, but it’s over now. I’m here.”

She lowers on his body once more.

“Yes. I’m relieved. I honestly feared I could have lost you forever.”

He searches for her lips.

Sojiro’s voice comes at his ears like the cruel ring of an alarm clock.

“Ehi kid! Another friend of yours has come to visit, he says he has some sketches to show you. I can bring you all a nice cup of coffee.”

Akira swallows the lump in his throat and focuses on steadying his voice.

“Of course! Tell Yusuke he can come, we’d need some help with the paperwork here.”

Makoto’s eyes widen.

“Gosh, I’d almost forgot them.”

They dress up in a hurry; Akira suppresses a laugh every time their gazes meet and Makoto averts her look.

Yusuke climbs the last steps and enters the attic.

“Ah, Makoto! I didn’t know you were here.”

She smiles politely and continues to search in her schoolbag.

“Yes, our teacher gave me the schedule for his upcoming classes and what topic they’ll be about. I’ve stopped by so I could deliver the papers to him and do a bit of studying.”

“I see, you truly are a diligent student, Akira. I’m glad Ryuji and Ann didn’t have a bad influence on you.”

A smirk creeps on Akira’s face.

“No way I’m skipping a study session.”

**Author's Note:**

> Almost over! Two days left c:
> 
> Previous work in the collection: Persona 5 - ShuMako - Ride  
Next one in the collection will be: Persona 5 - ShuMako


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